


Hold On For Just a Moment

by notaguitarfret



Series: "They're all girlfriends" AU [15]
Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Asthma, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, god it's about time these two had A Talk, please read the cw in the author notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 18:58:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19797019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notaguitarfret/pseuds/notaguitarfret
Summary: Heather Duke basically saves Veronica's ass, but a simple "thank you" is just never enough, is it?





	Hold On For Just a Moment

**Author's Note:**

> !!!!!! CW !!!!!!!
> 
> so in this chapter there are flashbacks that contain deadnaming/misgendering of transgender characters. yes, i debated writing this differently or even just leaving it out of the story, i simply decided to stick with this decision as i also care abt representation of those in pre-transition. however, if this does upset you in any way, please either avoid the flashbacks or simply skip this fic, thank you !!

_Dear Diary,_

_Hey, it’s been a while. Just putting in my daily reminder to keep my inhaler with me at all times._

_And to do that, here is, in detail, the story about how I almost fucking died._

* * *

“So we got some vodka, liquor, Jell-O and some snacks,” Duke finished, leaning against the pole of the wired fence. Veronica envied her, being able to skip PE and _not_ have to hide away from the prying eyes of the gym teachers. Lucky her that she was nice enough to forge a sick note for her, since she wasn’t about to risk Duke fainting in front of the whole class after running a few laps. That would be… horribly embarrassing.

“Sounds like a neat party you’re planning,” Veronica said through exhausted wheezes. She heard Duke snicker.

“You good?” she asked, though there was an element of sarcasm in her tone. “You sound tired.”

“Yeah, well,” she replied, panting, “ _you’re_ not the one doing jumping jacks, are you?”

“Thank God. I’d look ridiculous.”

Veronica paused, taking a moment to breathe, hunching over with her hands on her knees, while her eyes narrowed at Heather.

“Don’t thank God. Thank _me_.”

“Maybe I was calling you God,” Duke retorted with a dismissive shrug. “Though, I’m pretty sure God isn’t meant to get so exhausted,” she added, eyeing her accusingly. Veronica, still out of breath, brushed her off and straightened herself up, pushing down the need to take a little longer to catch her breath.

“He took a rest on the seventh day,” she said. “Maybe read up on your religious texts, Heather.”

Heather snorted. “Why? To impress Heather’s parents?” She rolled her eyes. “There _is_ no impressing them.”

“I’ve never met them, so I wouldn’t know.”

“Count that as a blessing.”

Veronica would have questioned her further, but the harsh blow of the whistle across the courtyard made her whip her head towards the coach.

“Warm-ups over, time for laps!” he announced. “Everyone get going!”

A ripple of groans could be heard across the scattered students, but there were no arguments. As everyone began to jog in an anti-clockwise direction, Veronica let out an exasperated sigh.

“Talk in a sec,” she grunted to Heather, before following the students running ahead of her.

“Have oodles of fun!” Heather called after her, and Veronica could only roll her eyes, albeit fondly. As jealous as she was of Heather’s position of doing jackshit, at the very least she didn’t have to deal with an exhausted, irritable Heather Duke trying to keep up with everyone else.

With her chest still trying to gasp for air from the warm-ups, Veronica let herself take it easy to begin with. She paid no heed to the students being able to easily overtake her - this wasn’t exactly a race. And even if it was, she didn’t particularly care. It wasn’t like anyone would be calling her a slowpoke at all - she was basically at the top of the school. Few things could humiliate her, though she was careful to not come into contact with any loose cracks in the floor, or rocks and pebbles that could easily trip her up. She didn’t exactly want to end up on the floor with any bleeding cuts in front of everyone - she’d been there before, and she wasn’t about to go through it again.

“Come on, Veronica,” the coach’s voice dragged her out of the thoughts she didn’t necessarily want to fall into. She looked up at him as she approached him. “You’re quite slow today.”

“Tired,” she muttered, avoiding his glare.

“Exercise always wakes the soul up,” he asserted. “Now let’s go!”

 _I have insomnia, dickhead,_ she almost spat back, but instead just let out a frustrated groan as she picked up her pace. _And I’m really out of breath already_.

She did find the fact that her chest was… crampy… a little odd. She was by no means physically unfit. She used to do acrobatics, for fuck’s sake.

 _Maybe I shouldn’t be drinking coffee before bed,_ she admitted to herself.

With the small speed boost she gave herself, she suddenly felt her whole body ache, and had to walk to her starting point, where Duke was standing.

“Worn out already?” Heather quipped, though the surprise in her voice outweighed her sarcasm. “You’re usually okay with laps.”

Clutching her chest, she shook her head.

“I… I’m fine,” she said, before letting out a cough. “I think I just-” Another cough. Slightly more violent.

“Maybe take a break?” Heather suggested, only to be undermined by,

“Veronica, this is no time for breaks!”

The coach’s yell, Veronica noticed, made a few heads turn towards her in curiosity, and seeing their reactions made her blood boil. She didn’t need the rest of the class seeing her struggling for fucking air, _thank you very much_.

“For fuck’s…” Yet another cough interrupted her sentence, this time feeling as though it was scratching her throat violently on its way out. She tried to take a breath after exhaling her left over air, but in doing so, her lungs seemed to tighten up, causing a sharp pain.

 _I can’t fucking breathe properly,_ she griped, hand on her throat. _The fuck is happening?_

The hand on her chest could feel her heart begin to quicken its pace. She knew exactly what that was a sign of.

But in trying to act on her usual coping strategy - _breathing in deeply_ \- she only felt more pain, and felt more struggle in sucking in any form of air. She felt her heart - and chest - tighten in panic, and her vision began to fill up with tears as her coughing fit persisted.

“Veronica, I said go!” she heard the coach yell, and more students likely looked over in her direction as he did so. At least she couldn’t confirm it, with everything in her sight growing more and more blurry. It wasn’t even tears at this point, though they were definitely spilling out onto her cheeks. No… her vision was just blurring into one big _colour_.

 _Veronica, Veronica, calm down,_ she tried to scream at herself, but with breathing becoming a painful and near impossible task, her head becoming light and fuzzy and her heart racing and-

“Veronica, are you okay?”

She could clearly hear Heather speak to her, sounding much closer than she had been standing before.

“ _Do I look okay!”_ she managed to wheeze out, though her voice was extremely hoarse, almost a whisper.

“What’s happening?”

Veronica, in her panicked brain, tried to figure out what was going on with her, and why the _fuck_ she couldn’t breathe.

“ _I don’t-_ ” she tried to inhale, but the breath was shaky and weak. “ _HELP!_ ” is all she managed to cough out as she stumbled over to the wired fence to grip it in a failing attempt to hold herself up. She felt two small hands latch on to her arm, and though her sight was growing too fuzzed up to see clearly, she could tell that the smaller figure standing in front of her was Heather.

“Veronica, stand up straight,” she heard her say. Feeling her whole body shake and her limbs grow weak, she attempted to do so, but with her heart pounding and head reeling, she just couldn’t gain enough control over herself to hold herself up. Sliding down the fence until she vaguely felt cold concrete beneath her, she tried to soothe her panicking brain by reasoning what the actual _hell_ was going on.

 _It’s a panic attack,_ she told herself, palm pressed against her chest as she let out shallow breaths. _It’s just a really bad panic attack._ The words had no effect, however, as tears continued to stream from her eyes and sobs began to mix in with her constant wheezing.

“ _I feel like I’m dying,_ ” she spluttered.

“You’re not,” she heard Heather say.

_It’s just a panic attack, it’s just a panic attack-_

“You’re having an asthma attack.”

* * *

“And that’s what this is for,” Veronica finished, holding out her little blue tube. “To stop that from happening.”

Huxley widened his eyes, covering his mouth.

“But… what if that do happen?” he asked.

“Mom always tells me to sit up straight - like this,” she explained, demonstrating with a straightened spine. “And to keep using the inhaler until I feel better.” She slipped it back into her pocket. “If I don’t feel better, she would take me to a doctor.”

Huxley nodded in understanding, before both of them were distracted by the sound of Martha calling from across the room,

“We got capes!”

She darted across the room, holding one cape made from a small, green, patterned towel, another made from orange silk attached to a red ribbon. Both Veronica and Huxley scrambled onto their feet and grabbed the closest cape to them.

“Yay!” Huxley chipped, wrapping the ribbon around his collar. “I am Queen.” He readjusted the red paper crown on his head, one slightly too big for him, but at least the stubby ponytail acted as something for the crown to latch onto.

“Shouldn’t you be a king?” Dexter pointed out as he walked over to them, holding some meter sticks and box lids.

Huxley frowned at him.

“Why not a queen?” he asked.

“You can be Queen if you want to, Huxley!” Martha said with a smile. Huxley grinned.

“I am Queen,” he declared. “What is everyone else?”

Veronica shot her hand up.

“Knight! I wanna be knight!”

Huxley tapped her head with his hand. “You are knight.”

“Actually,” Veronica interjected. “I was your servant, but trained to fight against the evil assassin.”

“That’s me,” Dexter stated, pulling out his homemade purple bandana, two messily cut out eye-holes allowing him to see out of them. “I’m here to kill you.”

“I’m here to fight for you, my Queen,” Veronica said, giving a respectful bow to Huxley.

“Oh, what about me?” Martha chimed in. “Can I be the princess?”

“Yeah!” Veronica nodded. “I must protect you both from the assassin.” She was handed a meter stick and a lid, becoming her own sword and shield.

“I am sorry, but what’s an assassin?” Huxley asked.

“Someone whose job is to kill people!” Martha explained.

“I’m going to kill the royal family,” Dexter said in a mischievous voice, scurrying over to a desk and diving under it. “I’m gonna take their money and give it to the poor.”

“But is it right to kill someone for that?” Martha questioned.

“Yes.” He nodded. “People need to eat food, and you’re spending money on gold rather than helping people!”

“Oh,” she said. “Well, I guess we’re the villains now.”

“Duh. Haven’t you seen Robin Hood?” Dexter pointed a sword at them and blew some of his long, blonde hair out of his face. “Death to tyrants!”

Veronica darted forward and stood in front of both Martha and Huxley.

“I will guard them, and the wealth,” she declared, marching around them. “I worked hard for this role.” She turned to face them both. “So you two should hide. An assassin is coming to kill you, as I’ve been told,” she instructed, paying no attention to the shuffling behind her. “You both should hide.”

The two of them nodded, hurrying over to a table and crawling underneath it, letting the cloth flopping over them, hiding them from anyone’s view. After they seemed to be safe, Veronica whipped back around and looked around the bedroom, searching for Dexter. But when she looked back at the space under the table that he had crawled under before, she found onto some pens that had yet to be tidied up.

“Assassin Dexter,” she called, placing her sword on her shoulder. “You can’t hide forever!”

Just as she finished her sentence, she heard the frightened squeal of Huxley behind her. She spun around and saw him scrambling out of his hiding place, Martha close behind him. Only Martha wasn’t running away with him - no, with how she was holding her own sword, she could only guess that she was the one he was running from.

“Princess Martha, what are you doing?” Veronica called, running to Huxley’s aid. Martha stopped right in front of her, and sure enough, out from the hiding spot came Dexter,

“I lied about being a princess,” Martha confessed, gripping her sword. “I’m working for Dex.” She directed the sword towards Huxley. “I’m sorry I lied, but people need your money.”

Huxley gasped, and Veronica stepped between them both.

“How could you?” she demanded.

“It’s for the best!” Martha cried, before charging forward. Adrenaline spilled through Veronica’s veins, and she spun around clumsily and darted away.

“Hide, my Queen!” she exclaimed. Huxley jumped, clearly surprised, before darting off into a random direction, out of sight. Once he was gone, Veronica spun back around and slammed her sword into Martha’s, the two of them focused on blocking one swing out of another. Just as she thought she was about to knock the sword right from her hand, she could see yet another weapon being pointed at her from the corner of her eye.

Whipping her head around, she saw Dexter pointing his own sword at her.

 _Uh-oh,_ she thought to herself, realising she was outnumbered. “Um…” She had to think up a plan on the spot. “Oh- Huxley, where are you going?” she gasped, pointing to somewhere behind them both. They both turned their heads in confusion, giving an opportunity to make a run for it. She darted in the direction Huxley had disappeared to, frantically searching the area behind the other side of the bed, but saw nothing.

“Here,” she suddenly heard him whisper. In looking down at where the voice had come from, she saw his head peeking out from underneath the bed. She couldn’t help but grin stupidly at the genius idea, eagerly dropping onto her stomach and crawling through the gap like a worm.

Under the bed, it was dark and cramped, stray pieces of paper strips and candy wrappers scattered across the carpet that definitely needed dusting. The perfect hiding place.

“I’m glad that you’re safe,” Veronica whispered to him, and he smiled.

“I got clothes and hands dirty,” he replied. “But I am hidden.”

“It was a good plan!” she praised.

“Are they after us?” he questioned. Veronica let out a curious hum.

“Stay there, I’m gonna check.”

With some effort, she managed to drag herself along the floor with her hands, up until she was at the other side of the bed. There, she sneaked a glance up to the outside world, and saw two pairs of legs wandering around aimlessly.

“I wonder where they went,” she heard Dexter wonder. “Where do you think, Princess?”

“I’m not sure,” Martha replied. “I think they’re hiding.”

“Hmm.” With that, Dexter wandered elsewhere, out of Veronica’s view.

“They’re after us,” Veronica warned him, frantically shuffling back towards him. “I’ll have to fend them off when they find us.”

Huxley frowned.

“Am I going to lose you?”

Veronica sighed. “If I lose the fight, yes.” She then looked at her wrist lying in front of her. “Here.”

Huxley gave her a curious look, watching her intently as she slipped off a green, wavy bracelet. When holding it up in front of him, she couldn’t help but admire how it matched the colour of his eyes - a bright green which glistened in the light.

“Keep this,” she told him, taking hold of his wrist and slipping it on. “To remember me if something goes wrong.”

Huxley clutched onto the bracelet, nodding, only for the peace to me immediately interrupted by a,

“Ha!”

They both snapped their heads to the side of the bed, both flinching at the sight of Dexter, on the floor, staring at them both.

“Found you both,” he said. “Come out and fight, coward.”

“Quick, run!” Veronica ordered, quickly snatching her sword and swiveling around to make a break for the exit on the other side. She watched as Huxley’s tiny body was able to quickly dash ahead of her, already out and on his feet when Veronica was still struggling to reach the end.

“Got you!”

Veronica yelped when she felt two hands latch onto her ankles.

“No, no!” she cried, gripping onto the carpet in a desperate attempt to escape his grasp. As she felt herself being tugged backwards, another pair of hands grabbed her wrists.

“It is okay, Voodoo,” Huxley said as he pulled her back towards him. “I have got you.”

“Thank you!” Veronica replied, managing to shake off Dexter’s grip and freeing herself from the cramped space from the bed, taking a deep breath of fresh air as she stood up, as well as a cough. “It was dusty under there,” she stated, quickly pulling out her inhaler from her pocket and clearing her throat with it. “I’m good.”

“Oh, good.”

“Anyway.” She gripped her sword. “That was a close one, my Queen.”

“You can just call me Lee,” he said. Veronica hummed to herself.

“I could make it rhyme with Voodoo,” she offered. “How about Loo-loo?

“That is true,” he said with a smile. “And new.”

“I only wish the best for my Queen Loo-loo,” she replied, hand on her sword as she leaned against it confidently.

“The best would be to stay by my side,” he replied. “Not like another princess.” He shot an accusing look to the general direction of where Martha may be standing.

She grinned at her.

“As you wish!” she replied, ready to turn around and face whatever threat may come towards him, only for that preparation to be destroyed by,

“ _Got you!_ ”

A sword slammed right into her stomach, causing her to stumble over and fall to the ground.

“No!” she wailed, lying on the carpet, arms splayed out. “I’m sorry, Queen Loo-loo… I have failed you.”

“While we both win!” Dexter exclaimed, giving Martha a high-five.

“It is okay, Voodoo,” Huxley said, offering a hand. Veronica grabbed onto it, letting herself be pulled back onto her feet. “Next time we will win.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “And, do you want your bracelet back?”

He held out the bracelet to her, and she shook her head, pushing it back towards him.

“You can hold onto it, if you want,” she said. “I mean, I died, so you need something to remember me by.”

Huxley giggled. “I suppose so.” He then turned to Martha. “And how dare you betray me?” he chided. She gave a sheepish grin.

“Plot twist,” she replied.

“I see,” he said, eyeing her, before turning back to Veronica. “Next game, we get revenge.”

“We do,” Veronica agreed with a mischievous laugh, nodding.

* * *

“Did none of you losers hear me?” Heather snapped, whipping her head around to hand an icy glare at all the students who had crowded around them with a curious glint in their eyes. “She’s having a fucking asthma attack. Someone get help, for fuck’s sake!”

“No need for bad language, Heather,” she heard to coach say to her as she turned back towards the choking girl sitting in front of her. She snarled.

“My friend can’t fucking breathe, and you’re worried about naughty words?” she hissed. “What the fuck do I do?”

“Um…” The coach stood behind her, staring at the two of them blankly. Heather wasn’t even sure there were any cogs turning in his head - as if he cared enough to activate his brain for one second.

“Does she have an inhaler?” he eventually asked, not a hint of panic in his tone. Heather had to think for a moment, trying to remember a time - a _recent_ time, in which Veronica had an inhaler.

Not a single memory sprung to mind.

“Veronica, listen,” she then said, taking hold of one of her hands to grab her attention. Veronica’s head lifted up ever so slightly, her face pale and glistening with both tears and sweat. “ _Do you have an inhaler?_ ”

Veronica shook her head. All hope being snatched away from her, Duke dragged her fingers through her hair.

“God, okay, _someone get a fucking nurse or some shit_.” Her eyes darted around the possible candidates of whom she trusted wouldn’t fuck such a simple task up. “Peter!” she barked.

Peter flinched at the sound of his name, but all his attention was drawn towards her.

“Get the nurse.”

“Yeah, will do,” he replied, before dashing off of the courtyard and back into the building.

“Okay, Veronica?” she turned back towards her. “I know you literally cannot breathe right now, but you’ll have to control it as best as you can, okay?”

Veronica stared back at her with helpless, watery eyes, but gave a subtle nod regardless.

“Sit up,” she began, putting a hand on her shoulder to guide her. Veronica leaned back against the fence, her wheezes still loud.

“Okay, now, um…” She paused. _Fuck… what next?_ She tried to think. “Is… is there anything else to do when you don’t have an inhaler?”

Veronica shook her head.

“Well, shit.” Heather chewed on her lip. “Okay just… just follow my lead.” She took hold of both hands, making sure to keep her attention on her. “Try your best to breathe with me, okay?”

Veronica, still looking petrified, nodded, tightening her grip on Heather’s hands. Heather reciprocated; a way to reassure her that she had her looking after her.

 _Not sure if that’s very reassuring,_ Heather thought to herself. _I’m not exactly the best person when it comes to physical health._

For a short while - maybe five minutes or so - Heather would breathe, and instruct Veronica with a single “in”, and do the same with “out”. It did very little, if anything at all. Her coughs were growing even more frequent, and the wheezing becoming more shallow. And not once did Duke take her eyes off of her, no matter how much the sight of her struggling to gasp for any air at all was making her stomach churn and her heart beat quicker and quicker. It was only when did she hear Peter call to her did she finally tear her gaze away.

“The nurse says to bring her to reception,” he said. “They’ve called 911.”

“911?” she echoed, looking back at Veronica with worry. “Is it that bad?”

“Without an inhaler… yeah.”

“Fuck’s sake,” she muttered, grabbing Veronica by the arms. “Alright, can you get up?”

Veronica didn’t respond, though she did grapple onto Duke, trying to balance herself on two feet. They began to walk, and maybe made about three steps before she stumbled, thinly saved from hitting the ground by Duke, who firmly grasped her around the waist.

“Hold onto me,” Duke told her, all while she was trying to hold herself together as the weight of the situation - and Veronica herself - was beginning to settle on her shoulders.

 _Oh God, she really is in danger,_ she thought, teeth digging into her bottom lip.

Her thoughts kept on racing as they took their time stumbling towards the reception, gripping Veronica tightly, keeping her as close to her as she could. Most of it was instinct driven - she wasn’t about to let her be subjected to the prying eyes that would occasionally pass them in the hallways.

Another part of her was yearning for her wellbeing. But it was a small part.

Just a very powerful one.

“Ah, Veronica Sawyer?” the receptionist said calmly as soon as they walked into the room. Her relaxed demeanour faltered, however, when she saw her state of consistent wheezing and coughing, nevermind her pale face, shaking limbs and tear-stained face. “Just sit over there, and the ambulance will be here very soon.”

Heather guided her over to the couch, which was uncomfortable, to say the least, but better than holding Veronica up on her two feet.

“Do you have a class, Heather?” the receptionist asked. Heather glared at her.

“I think staying with my friend is more important than standing on the outskirts of PE,” Duke snapped, before turning her attention back to Veronica. What else to do beyond keep holding her hand was beyond her, so she remained completely silent as they both waited, the room being filled with Veronica’s coughing.

“ _I feel like I’m gonna die_ ,” she then heard her say in a raspy, very strained voice. She almost couldn’t understand her.

“Stop trying to speak, idiot,” Heather chided. “Focus on your breathing.”

A small pause.

“And you won’t,” she murmured, leaning a little closer. “Trust me, I’ve been there.”

Veronica glanced up at her, eyes glistening. She said nothing - thank God - though the sadness in her expression spoke more words than her voice ever could. Heather thickly swallowed.

“You’ll be fine,” she mumbled, just as she picked up on sirens closing in on the school. “See?” she nudged her with her elbow. “This’ll be over before you know it.”

Veronica shot her a look of doubt.

Blaring blue lights from outside then shone through the window, and the siren’s wailing stopped. Sure enough, an ambulance was ready for Veronica, and Heather watched as the receptionist left her desk and gestured for Veronica to follow her. In her state, it was a struggle to stand without support, and seeing someone who was usually so carefree hold herself desperately to try and take a few steps forward, Heather could hardly hold herself back from darting forward to help her.

“You want me to tell Heather and Heather about this?” she asked as she led her down to the ambulance. “Though, they’ll hear it eventually. Word gets around fast.”

She saw Veronica squeeze her eyes shut when she said that, and the cough she let out sounded similar to a whine. Heather winced.

“Yeah, sorry to say,” she said, before stopping in seeing the paramedics walking towards them. 

They asked if she was the patient, and Heather had to bite back, _“No shit.”_ She only let go of Veronica’s arm when she was gestured to the ambulance, and she refused to move from her spot until the ambulance was out of sight.

“Thanks for your help, Heather,” the receptionist said, making her snap her head towards her. “You may return to class now.”

 _Yeah, right,_ Heather scoffed to herself as she returned to the building.

* * *

“ _Heather!_ ”

Hearing an overwrought bark from behind her, Duke spun around to see Heather Chandler speed walking down the hallway.

“I was looking for you,” she said.

“Veronica. What happened?” was the first thing she said when she stopped in front of her. Her eyes were wide with worry, and her shoulders tense. While Duke had expected some form of concern, she didn’t think she’d see Chandler _this_ on edge about the whole thing.

“Word spread around that fast?” It had only been about an hour. “What have you heard?”

“I heard she had an asthma attack,” she replied, biting her lip and scraping off her lipstick with her teeth. “Tell me people are overexaggerating when they say she couldn’t breathe, for the love of fuck.”

Duke grimaced. “I wish I could say that, but no.” She sighed. “Saw the whole thing. Led her onto the ambulance. She wouldn’t stop coughing.”

“I-” Chandler stammered. “Is she okay?” She brought up her hand and began to nibble on her nails, whilst her pale blue eyes remained glued to her.

Duke frowned.

“I don’t know.”

“ _Guys!_ ”

A voice Duke would usually call chippy and friendly, sounded down the corridor, panicked and alert. She looked behind her, and sure enough, Emmy was darting towards them both.

“What’s happened to Veronica?” she asked breathlessly. “I’ve been hearing that she-”

“Had an asthma attack,” Duke finished for her. “Yeah. I saw the whole thing.”

“Is she okay?”

“I _just_ asked that,” Chandler muttered.

Emmy glared at her. “Sorry I wasn’t here to hear you?”

Duke felt her heart sink at the rising hostility in their voices.

“How is Heather supposed to know whether or not she’s okay?” Chandler snapped. “She’s in the fucking hospital, apparently.”

The image of Veronica in the hospital flashed into Duke’s head.

“How was _I_ supposed to know that?” Emmy fired back. “Besides, when did you start caring so much about her, anyway?”

She wasn’t even sure Veronica was breathing right now.

“Right- _fuck off!_ Of _course_ I care about her you fucking-”

“Both of you _shut up!_ ”

The sound of Duke’s yell splitting through the air shocked and silenced them both. She threw them both a fiery glare, grabbing them both by their collars and dragging them closer.

“Whatever the fuck it is you two are arguing about, _I don’t give a flying fuck about._ Can we _please_ leave it for later, and focus on whether or not Veronica can _fucking breathe?_ ”

She shot a warning glare to Chandler.

“Got it?” she hissed. Chandler, wide-eyed, frozen and flushed cheeks, could only give a high-pitched,

“ _Mhmm_.”

She turned to Emmy.

“You got it?” she said in an admittedly softer tone.

“Yeah,” she replied with a nod. “You’re right.”

Duke released them both, letting them fix their shirts and rub their necks.

“Sorry, but I do _not_ need any more fucking stress today,” she groaned. “I watched my friend basically suffocate for fifteen minutes straight, and I deadass thought she was going to drop dead right in front of me.” She rubbed her temples, trying to clear the image from her mind. “Awful experience that I wouldn’t recommend.”

“Wow, sounds awful,” Chandler griped pitifully, placing a hand on her chest. “I wonder what that must be like?”

Picking up the heavy sarcasm in her tone, Duke was quick to understand what she was referring to, and she stared at her. Chandler only gave an innocent shrug, before something out of Duke’s view caught her eye. Duke was about to follow her gaze, when-

“ _Where is she?_ ”

A hard grip landed on her shoulder, and in turning around, she locked eyes with Betty Finn. She bit back a groan in seeing that she was accompanied with Martha.

“I’m sorry, you’re interacting with me _why_?” she shot a glare at Martha, who averted her gaze, She could have given a disdainful huff, but she saved it.

“You know exactly why!” Betty snapped, clutching her by the shirt. “I wouldn’t be speaking a word to you if Veronica wasn’t hurt.”

“No need to be so rude,” Duke jeered, yanking her hand off of her clothing, the physical closeness making her feel more than uncomfortable.

Granted, it could have been worse. It could have been Martha, rather than someone she simply associated with her. Any bitterness she held towards Betty was very second-hand.

That, and the fact that Betty was very similar to someone else she once knew.

“Look, if it’ll make you go away, then yes, Veronica had an asthma attack,” she said with disgruntlement. “No, she’s not still here. If you want to find her, she’s in the hospital.”

“The hospital?” Martha echoed, face filled with worry. “Is she okay?”

“No,” Duke replied dryly. Martha gave a scared gasp, and despite the stakes currently at hand, Duke couldn’t help but feel a tinge of satisfaction in hearing it.

“She will be!” Emmy added, stepping forward.

“How do _you_ know that?” Chandler sneered bitterly. “For all we know, she’s currently not breathing.”

Martha covered her mouth in shock at her statement, whilst Betty placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, straightening herself up and shooting the Heathers a defensive glare.

“She was rushed to the hospital!” Emmy snapped back at her, whipping her head around to glare at her. “You really think they’d be unable to help a patient with _asthma_?”

“She’s got a point,” Duke said, only more calmly as she turned to Chandler. “You’re overthinking.”

Chandler opened her mouth to argue, but no words came out. She gave a sigh.

“ _Fine,_ ” she muttered. “But I’m not going to be fully convinced until I see her.”

Hearing a touch of concern - _genuine_ concern - from Chandler, was odd, to say the least. That, and the way she held herself so that to an outsider, it looked as if she was folding her arms, but to Duke, she could tell it was her trying to hold herself together.

Any other time than now, Duke would have let Emmy take on the responsibility to calm her down. But one glance at the blonde, and she was averting her gaze from her, hazel eyes darting around frantically, avoiding crossing Chandler at all cost.

“Hey,” Duke said soothingly, walking towards her. Chandler’s eyes flickered up to meet hers, blue irises glistening with worry.

“As soon as school is over, we’ll drive there to check on her,” she told her. “And yeah, she was in quite a state when I last saw her, but it could have been worse.”

“Could it?” Chandler grunted doubtfully.

Duke gave a lone amused huff. “Very,” she assured her. “She could have gotten silent chest, or begin to turn blue.”

A ghost of a smile lurked on Chandler’s lips. “That’s taking this colour coding thing a bit too far.”

She snickered.

“Also, who says we have to wait until _after_ school?” Chandler then said. “We’ll just forge absence notes, as usual.”

Duke blinked at her, shooting her an odd look. She turned back to Emmy, who just appeared bemused.

“Um…” She hard Martha speak up, and in hearing her voice _alone_ she became irritated. “I thought Veronica was the one who forged notes.”

As much as she disliked her, she had to admit, looking back at Chandler, who was glaring at her with a mix of enragement as well as embarrassment, was a _little_ bit funny. A little bit.

“Why the fuck are you two still here?” Chandler snapped.

“Because it was fascinating seeing you three acting like real people,” Betty replied. “Also, since we all share one mutual friend, I’m willing to be nice and offer an alternative to forging.

Three heads turned towards her with intrigue.

“On _one_ condition.”

Both Chandler and Duke gave a groan.

“Depends how good your offer is,” Chandler said, stepping towards them both. “We don’t take bribes from the scum of the school.”

“Oh, _you’re_ charming!” Betty retorted, voice oozing with sarcasm. Duke gave a snort.

“We generally don’t _talk_ to them either.” She glanced at Martha, who cowered under her stare. “Apart from a few special occasions.” A wicked grin began to crawl onto her lips, before Betty stepped in between them both.

“I guess you don’t need our help, then,” she said. “We’ll just skip classes ourselves.”

“Wait, we’re skipping?” Martha gasped. Betty turned to her a chuckled.

“No, no. I have a way to stop ourselves from getting caught.” She turned back to Duke. “Anyway, have fun waiting, what, four hours?” She shrugged. “I’m sure your selfish ass can cope.”

Duke let out an offended huff, almost automatically stomping forward and reaching out for Betty’s arm as she turned around. She grabbed her, holding her still in place.

“God, _what_.”

“In actuality, we _do_ want to see Veronica,” she spat. “I watched her almost pass out today and had to drag her to the fucking ambulance. If you _seriously_ think I’m going to be sitting in my classes today and _not_ think about that, then you’re horribly mistaken.”

Betty remained silent, maintaining a cool expression as she turned around to face her.

“It comforts me that Veronica, at the very least, isn’t surrounded by power-hungry bitches 24/7.” Her green eyes flickered over to Chandler. “I mean, she _is_ , but that’s beside the point.” She stared down at her. “So, what, you wanna take up my offer, or just skip class around exam time and get detention for a week?”

Duke held her glare dangerously, breathing in heavily to try and control her desire to just _yell_ in frustration.

“I’d be grounded,” she muttered. “For the second week in a row.” She stared at the floor. “ _And_ we have big plans for this weekend.” She glanced back at Chandler, who gave a grimace at the thought of taking that risk.

Great. It was wait a few hours to see Veronica, or make a temporary team-up with two members of the bottom of the school’s rusty, dirty fucking barrel.

“Okay, _fine_ ,” she grumbled. “But this _doesn’t_ mean anything,” she growled in a low voice, leering at Martha, who gave a timid nod. She then looked back up at Betty. “But as soon as this is over, we never speak again.”

Betty batted her lashes at her. “Yeah, about that…” She swiveled to the side innocently, half-turning away from Duke. “The favour we need in return requires someone who can _drive_ ,” she exhorted, peering back at her. “Because neither of us can do that, and both of our parents are busy, and well, to put it simply.” She placed a hand on her chest and gave a faux solemn look. “Neither of us have any spare change on us for the bus because we’re fucking poor as shit.” In some sort of pity party, she turned around. “If _only_ we had a _dear_ friend kind enough to drive us to the hospital to check on a mutual friend’s well-being!”

She became quiet, still facing away from Duke, whilst she remained standing there stiffly, arms crossed and eye twitched in annoyance.

“ _Fine_ ,” she groaned. “As you fucking wish.”

“Great!” She spun around with a big grin. “Okay, insecure teenager idols, let’s bounce.”

As the newly-formed group began to move, Duke had to take a moment to soothe her tense breathing, before following them reluctantly.

_Veronica better thank me._

* * *

“So, Martha, myself and Yellow Heather will ask to go home sick,” Betty said, taking off the phone from the payphone box. “While _I_ will take the initiative of faking som emergency calls. That good for everyone?”

Martha raised her hand as if she were in a damn class.

“Yes, my one and only friend in this group of people?”

“Are you sure we won’t get into trouble?”

Betty smiled at her.

“No.”

Martha grimaced.

“If you do, just tell your parents to blame my parents.”

“Why?” she asked. “They didn’t plan this.”

“They raised me like this.”

She then proceeded to lift the phone up against her ear, whilst Duke stood back and watched with amusement.

“I’ll do Red Heather’s first,” she said, dialing the number of the reception. Duke glanced over to Chandler, who looked almost as skeptical as she did, though the smirk on her lips revealed some sort of mischief; if she were to guess, it was likely that she was waiting for this plan to fail horribly.

A faint ringing could be heard, and Betty cleared her throat seconds before the line picked up.

“Yes, _hello_ ?” she spoke in a high-pitched, croaky voice with a thick posh accent that _immensely_ contrasted to Betty’s own. Duke had to zip her mouth shut and cover it with her hand, trying to not let herself laugh at something done by her. Emmy appeared to have no shame, however. Next to her, she muffled her snickers into her palm, whilst Chandler’s smirk had dropped, replaced by a glare, her eye twitching ever so slightly.

“Hi, um, this is Heather’s grandmother,” she stated. “Oh, there’s more of them? Ah, makes sense, my daughter was never the most creative person.”

In hearing that, Chandler looked away, presumably to hide the smile threatening to break through on her face.

“Yes, Chandler... I, um, am calling as out family is in a bit of a pickle right now,” she said. “Yes, it’s an emergency, and we’re going to need her here.” A pause. “One of her cousins accidentally drank drain cleaner,” she explained. “I know, he’s just… on the floor. Convulsing. He smashed right through a glass table.” She groaned. “That table was so expensive, too. Such a shame.”

Duke’s throat was beginning to hurt trying not to give the two girls the satisfaction of amusing her in some way, but at the very least, she could live through Chandler who had both hands clamped over her mouth, trying to hold back any laughter that may be heard down the phone.

“As soon as possible, yes. No no, she can drive herself. Did you know she’s rich? She has a really nice car,” Betty’s smile appeared to be very strained. “I love spending money on useless items. Like tithing!”

A loud snort was heard from Chandler, though luckily she had moved away from the payphone, further into the parking lot.

“Brilliant, thank you!” With that, she hung up, and Chandler was free to let out a wave of laughter. Betty could only stare at her in confusion.

“I can’t tell if you’re laughing because my impression was bad, or some other reason.”

Taking a moment to clear her throat, she managed to calm herself.

“You’re lucky I like making fun of my family,” she said, trying to erase her smile.

“I see I escaped certain death,” Betty replied, before picking up the phone again and dropping in some coins in the slot. “Okay, other Heather next.”

Any joy that Duke may have felt before vanished, and she scowled.

“Not even a colour, huh?” she muttered under her breath. Betty didn’t seem to notice - or care - as her fingers were ready to dial. On accident, her eyes crossed Martha’s and she was given an apologetical grimace. Duke just rolled her eyes, her nose scrunching up with distaste.

“I don’t need your pity,” she grumbled, before turning back to Betty. “Also, it might be a bit difficult to replicate my mother’s voice. She has a heavy Korean accent.” She made sure to put a sense of threat in her voice. Betty, dialing the number, didn’t even look up at her.

“I wasn’t going to,” she said dryly, putting the phone against her ear. “Hi, yes, I’m calling for Heather Duke.”

All three Heathers simultaneously flinched in suddenly hearing a deeper, masculine voice come out of this woman’s mouth. They all stared at each other with surprised expressions, wondering where the hell this voice range had come from. It did still sound feminine, though it was _much_ lower than her actual voice.

“Yes, there’s some issues with her older brother. He overdosed on drugs.”

 _The fuck?_ Duke thought. _How did you know I had an older brother?_ She glanced at Martha for a second. _Maybe she told you?_

She thought for a second.

 _Unless..._

At last, it hit her.

 _Oh._ Her eyes looked back and forth between them both. _Yeah… that makes sense._

Feelings of conflict began to stir within her. One one hand, she had more of a reason to dislike Betty. But on the other hand…

 _Well, at least I’m not the only one in this school, I guess._ It was a comforting thought.

Not comforting enough for her to like her though.

It was only when she put the phone back on the box did she realised she had zoned out for a moment.

“All done, you two are off the hook.” She pointed at Chandler and herself. “Now, nice Heather can come with Martha and I, we’ll all pretend to be ill.”

“Wait.”

Betty stopped in her tracks right next to Chandler when she called after her, and looked at her with a blank expression.

“What?”

Chandler gazed at her in curiosity. “How did you do that?” she asked, pointing at the phone. “Your voice got-”

“Very low, I know,” she cut in, looking away. “It’s a talent I don’t really want, I guess.” She glanced at Duke. “I didn’t want to do a horribly offensive impression of a Korean accent.”

Duke narrowed her gaze, before marching forward and snatching her by the wrist, pulling her to the side.

“Jesus Christ, what?” Betty snapped, stealing her hand back as soon as they were out of earshot. Duke glared up at her.

“Why are you helping us?” she growled. “Better yet, why are you helping _me_? Hell, why are you even interacting with me at all?”

Betty squinted.

“You were kind of out only option to check if Veronica having an asthma attack wasn’t bullshitting,” she said. “As if I _want_ to be standing in front of you right now.”

Irritation within her began to rise, forming into anger, threatening to bleed out after the words stabbed her in the chest.

“Right back at you, bitch,” she sneered.

Betty folded her arms, raising a brow. “You know, I don’t like you at all, but I never considered you to be this much of a cunt,” she said. “You’ve changed.”

Duke eyed her up and down.

“So have you.”

“ _Funny_ ,” she scoffed. “Though, I will actually take that as a compliment. Thanks.” 

“Guys," a more timid voice spoke up from next to them, and they both turned their heads to see Martha, nervously twiddling her thumbs. “I don’t think this is a great time to argue.”

Duke was about to snap at her, though was cut off by Betty.

“Okay, fine,” she murmured, before turning back towards her, expression more relaxed.

“But, look at it this way.” Her voice softened. “I have absolutely _no_ idea why Veronica likes you, or how she can stand you when you’ve ascended into a mega-bitch.”

Duke let out a disdainful “ _Tch,_ ” crossing her arms tightly.

“ _However_ , since we both just so happen to be her friend, I thought I’d be nice and help you guys out. I’m sure she’d love to see you in this dire time.” She leaned forward a little. “ _Only_ for Veronica’s sake, though.” She tapped her on the nose. “ _Not_ yours.”

Duke slapped her hand away.

“Don’t touch me,” she growled. “I’m just glad we never have to interact again, okay?”

Betty arched a brow. “I think you’re forgetting something.”

“Huh?”

Betty glanced at Martha, then back at her.

“You agreed to give us a lift there,” she said with underlying smugness audible in her tone that made her skin crawl. Her lip curled.

“Right…” she hissed through gritted teeth. “Well… we’ll go sign out of the school, and meet back at a large green jeep,” she instructed. “Parked next to a red Porsche.”

Betty gave a thumbs up.

“Looking forward to it,” she said.

“Do you need me to pay for gas?” Martha then blurted out. Duke gave her a surprised look, about to open her mouth to turn down her stupidly generous offer, but Betty placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Martha, you’re very sweet,” she said with a fond smile. “Sometimes a little too sweet.” She turned back to Duke. “Just remember that she’s rich, and she can definitely afford it.” She narrowed her eyes.

“Oh, and she’s also a bitch.”

* * *

Only up to three guests were allowed to see Veronica at a time, and the Heathers had valiantly allowed the two members of the “Loser Squad”, as they had called them, to go first. Mainly due to Emmy’s reasoning;

“They’ve known Veronica the longest, it’s only fair.”

Duke and Chandler begrudgingly agreed, with Duke silently holding back the argument of, “Me too,” and sat down in the waiting room.

Duke was squished between the two of them, acting as a barrier preventing from any argument from breaking out. Guarding the two of them from each other alone was tiring enough.

Against one of her legs, Duke felt Chandler’s thigh rapidly bounce up and down, and in looking at her tightly folded arms, she saw her nails were digging into her sleeve. She glanced up at her, seeing that she was blankly staring off into the distance.

“Are you okay?” she asked. Chandler snapped her head to look at her.

“Fine,” she replied bluntly.

Duke gave a doubtful look, one that Chandler frowned at.

“I’m…” She chewed on her lip. “Worried.”

“Couldn’t have guessed,” she quipped, glancing at her bouncing leg, which stilled just as her eyes landed on it.

“ _Ha-ha_ ,” she mumbled. “Funny.”

Duke gave an amused huff. “Not just that,” she went on, “the fact that you were able to bare a ride with those two says a lot.”

“Eh.” She shrugged. “Betty has good taste in music, at least.”

“Everyone likes Queen, Heather.”

“They’re my favourite band, _Heather_.”

She gave another small chuckle, until next to her Emmy said,

“Heather?”

Both heads turned towards her, one in a more hostile manner than the other. Duke was surprised to see that she was in fact, looking at Chandler rather than her.

“Sorry about what I said before,” she murmured. “It was a bit low of me to say that.”

Duke looked back at Chandler out of curiosity, and she responded with a quiet,

“It’s okay.”

With that, the two of them looked away from each other, falling silent. Duke glimpsed at Emmy.

“Is this what it was like for you when we were arguing?” she whispered. Emmy gave her a side-glance.

“Yep.”

Duke grimaced.

“Oh.”

Before any more conversation could begin, two familiar faces walked out of the hallway that would lead to Veronica’s room. Wait- not, two.. Three?

“The _fuck_ ,” Chandler blurted. “ _When did you fucking get here?_ ”

“Aw, hey gang,” JD said, stalking close behind Betty with a chilled out smile. “You want some spoilers? She’s completely fine. Just a little hoarse.” He gave a peace sign. “And don’t worry about giving your arch nemesis a ride back,” he then said, glancing at Duke. “I gave them money for the bus.”

“ _We didn’t even see you walk in!_ ” Duke exclaimed, utterly flabbergasted. “Why are you just a goddamn extracelestial _force_?”

“I love that film,” JD said dryly as the group shuffled across the waiting room.

“Thanks for the lift, Heather!” Betty called, though she could sense a tint of malice in her voice. She just rolled her eyes, refusing to respond as she followed Chandler’s lead of standing up and quickly scuttering down the hallway.

“Heather, what was the room name again?” Chandler asked as Duke caught up, keeping a quick pace by her side.

“209,” she replied. “So, up a floor.”

“Fuck’s sake,” she muttered. “The elevator is quicker, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“You hate small spaces,” Emmy said from behind them both, just as they stopped in front of an elevator at the end of the hall. Chandler hesitated, before slamming her finger onto the button.

“It's not _that_ cramped in here.”

The doors opened, they stepped in, and Chandler immediately curled up with herself as they were shut inside. Her foot tapped against the floor as Duke pressed the first floor button, and her eyes darted around the small space frantically.

“I regret my decision,” she whimpered as they were carried up.

“You’re fine,” Duke said, and on cue, the doors opened. “Come on.”

Chandler was quick to dart out of the lift and cantered down the bland hallways, searching frantically for the correct ward. It was kind of difficult when they all shared the same structure and same grey and white colours, the main exception being the light blue curtains in each ward, and whether or not they were drawn or not. Eventually, even that became consistent the further down she travelled through the corridor.

“Here,” Emmy called, pointing to a ward correctly named 209. The three of them scootered into it, almost immediately spotting Veronica in a bed next to the window.

She was wearing her own clothes, blazer, shoes and socks off and some buttons undone. She was staring through a rusted old window with dull blinds covering half of her view of the parking lot down below, up until the sound of Chandler’s heels clacking became noticeable, and she turned around to see them. When she did, a wide smile formed on her face.

“Guys!” she exclaimed, voice a little croaky. “Hi.”

“Hello, you absolute dumbfuck,” Chandler greeted, stopping right next to her with her arms folded.

“We’re currently arguing, but I agree,” Emmy added, stopping on the other side of her bed, also next to her. “Ronnie, what did I tell you literally last week?”

Veronica pursed her lips and hugged her knees.

“Okay, you may have had a point,” she mumbled. “Though, in my defence, it was exercise that triggered it, not smoking.”

She looked at Emmy, who looked unconvinced. Veronica sighed.

“But smoking definitely didn’t help.”

Emmy then let out a relieved sigh, pulling her in for a hug.

“I’m just glad you’re okay!” she said. Veronica nervously chuckled, tapping her on the arm.

“Hey, Mara?” she squeaked. “Lungs. I need them. More than ever.”

“Oh,” she replied, releasing her. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She smiled at her, and then turned her head to Duke. “I… thank you.”

Duke raised her brows. “Hm?”

“For, y’know, kinda saving my life?” She gave her a curious look. “No one else on that court knew what to do.”

Duke sheepishly looked away, feeling a little warm from the praise.

“Everyone else was a fucking dumbass,” she mumbled. “It was really no problem.”

Having not been looking, she was surprised when she felt herself being caught up in a tight hug. She glanced at Veronica, who was leaning over the edge of the bed to embrace her. Duke awkwardly returned it, patting her lightly on the back. With her resting on her shoulder, she was able to hear the slightest of shuddering breaths.

“You okay?” she murmured.

“Y-yeah,” she replied shakily, pulling back and swiping at her eyes. “Sorry, um…”

Both Chandler and Mac scurried around to get closer to her.

“It was just… an unpleasant experience,” she said, biting her quivering lip. “I might be a bit of a mess for a few days. Sorry guys.”

“Why are you apologising?” Chandler questioned.

“I don’t think you really want an anxious mess seen with you for the last week this semester,” she muttered. “Could look bad.”

Chandler paused for a moment, before sighing and climbing onto the bed next to her, her shoulder pressed up against her.

“I don’t care about that,” she told her in a hushed voice. “I’ll make sure any invasive assholes get off your back, though.”

Veronica offered a grateful smile, while Emmy leaned forward and said,

“Just apologise for making her feel like she has to worry about that.”

Chandler whipped her head towards her, giving her a glare, though she didn’t protest.

“Um… what she said,” she grumbled, looking away. Veronica gave a giggle.

“Thanks for the reassurance,” she said with fondness, resting her head on her shoulder jokingly. Duke noticed how Chandler flinched at the touch, gingerly gazing at her with her freckled cheeks flushing ever so slightly. The sight was… odd, to say the least, and Duke had to hide her need to question her reaction. Especially when she rested her head on top of the brunette’s.

“Will you be okay now?” Emmy asked. Veronica lifted her head off of Chandler and gave her a nod.

“So long as I have my inhaler, yes.”

“ _And_ watch how much you smoke,” Emmy said, tapping her on the nose. Veronica pulled a tongue at her.

“Yeah, yeah, that too.” She paused, her smile dropping. “As well as my anxiety.”

“Hm?” Emmy straightened up a little, taken aback.

“Anxiety?” Chandler echoed. Duke simply remained quiet.

“Don’t worry, it’s not anywhere near as bad as it used to be,” Veronica said passively. “It just comes up now and then.”

The Heathers, however, were not convinced. They looked at each other with a look of concern.

“So long as you’re okay,” Emmy said, latching her hand onto her arm. Duke couldn’t help but admire just how sweet she was being, especially at a time when Veronica really needed it.

Then again, according to Veronica, she was kind of alive because of her. Surely she could give herself some credit, then?

The thought made her heart sink, however. It really hadn’t hit her that she saved Veronica from a worse fate, no matter how much she had said she had.

She really did just save her life, huh?

* * *

“What did you need to talk to us about?”

The three of them stared at Huxley, waiting for a response. He remained staring at the floor, legs crossed and hands fidgeting, mouth opening and closing as if he were debating speaking.

“Well…” he began nervously, biting his lip. “Something has come up.”

“What is it?” Martha asked, concerned. Veronica watched her shuffle along the floor to sit on the pillow next to him.

“Two things, I should actually say,” he corrected, glancing up at them. “I am… I’m changing my name.”

“Huh?” Dexter gasped.

“You’re what?” Martha added.

“What to?” Veronica questioned, leaning forward.

Huxley glanced at them all anxiously.

“Heather.”

“Heather?” Dexter asked. “I thought that was a girl’s name.”

“It is,” Heather said, looking down. “And I have always liked the name.”

“But… _can_ you?” Dexter asked. “Change it, to a girl’s name, I mean.”

“Yes,” Heather replied. “Because I want to be one.”

The group fell silent, all looking at each other in shock and awe, no one knowing how to reply.

“You can _do_ that?” Dexter gasped, pushing his long blonde locks out of his face to reveal an amazed expression.

“Well, yes,” Heather replied. “I told my parents I want to be a girl. After a while they let me change my name.” A faint smile appeared of her lips. “And I am happy that they are letting me!”

Though it was a joyful statement, Veronica couldn’t help but pick up on an underlying sense of sadness beneath her expression, with how she still averted her gaze from them and how her smile didn’t hold up.

“I’m happy for you, Heather!” Martha said with a smile, embracing her into a hug. “We all are!”

“Yeah, Hu- um, Heather!” Dexter added, crawling forward to join the embrace..

“Me too,” Veronica said, shuffling over and latching onto the group hug. “But, um, what’s the other thing?”

Heather glanced up at her, her eyes growing remorseful.

“I am…” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I am moving away.”

Everyone jumped back from her, facial expressions warping from happy to horrified in a split second.

“What?”

“Moving?”

“ _Away?_ ”

Heather nodded, biting her lip and shrinking into her shoulders.

“But… where to?” Martha asked. “Is it far?”

Heather shrugged at her.

“Michigan. I do not know how far away it is… but I know I have to move schools.”

“You’re moving schools?” Dexter echoed, covering his mouth. “But you won’t be able to play with us anymore!”

Veronica felt a great pit of sadness swell up in her chest as the realisations continued to pile up.

“Are you getting new friends?” she meekly asked. Heather gasped.

“No one could ever replace you!” she said, grabbing hold of both of her hands. While the feeling of her hold was comforting, it only made her more somber in realising that she may not ever get to hold her hands or hug her ever again.

“Will we ever see you again?” It was as if Martha had read her thoughts, or perhaps simply shared the exact same worries. Heather looked at her, eyes filled with uncertainty.

“I will keep your phone numbers,” she said. “But I do not know when I can see you again.”

The three friends shot each other distraught looks, Veronica feeling as though the sadness in her chest was going to crawl its way up and release itself as a wave of cries. For the sake of everyone else, she forcefully swallowed it back down, not wanting to trigger any more emotions in anyone else.

“I wanted to tell you about my new name before I left,” Heather then said. “I did not want you remembering me as someone who I am not.”

Veronica’s brows knitted. “How long have you wanted to change your name?”

She shrugged. “A while.” She looked up at her. “But I could not change it here anyway. ma and pa both told me the classmates would laugh at me if I changed my gender.” She looked off into the distance. “So at least changing schools means I do not have to go through that.”

“Yeah, but, what about us?” Dexter asked, shuffling forward.

“Dex, don’t be rude,” Martha told him, causing him to shy away a little. “She can’t control whether or not she stays here.”

“I know…” Dexter said, looking down, his hair hanging and covering his face. “I’m just gonna miss her. We’ve known her for years.”

The group seemed to deflate.

“I might see you again,” Heather then said. “All I know about the moving is that my pa has a new job there.” She lifted her head up a little. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll end up moving back here again.” She looked back down at her wrist. “But… in the meantime.” Veronica looked down, seeing her hand clutched around something on her arm, sliding it off. She then held it out towards her, waiting for her to take it.

“I keep forgetting to give this back,” Heather said with a bittersweet smile. “Here you go.”

Veronica stared at the bright green bracelet, almost reaching forward to take it, but her hand stopped in midair, before she let it land on Heather’s hand to gently push it away from her.

“Keep it,” she told her. “To remember me.”

Heather widened her eyes, clutching onto the bracelet as if it were gold.

“Really?” she asked. “Are you sure you do not want it?”

Veronica nodded reassuringly.

“You can have it."

Heather looked down at the bracelet, slipping it back onto her wrist and smiling fondly at it.

“I will take care of it,” she told her.

“And, if you ever come back,” Dexter added, grabbing her attention. “Promise you’ll come back to us?”

“Of course!” Heather said. “I would give anything to stay with you all.”

“And we’d do the same!” Martha exclaimed, giving her another tight hug, which prompted both Veronica and Dexter to leap onto her as well,tackling her in an affectionate pile, which caused her to let out a surprised, but joyful squeak.

“I am going to miss you,” Heather murmured as they all held each other tightly.

_“We’ll miss you too, Heather…”_

* * *

“Will you be in school tomorrow?” Mara asked, holding Veronica’s hand. She gave a sigh, gripping it tightly as she gazed into her concerned hazel eyes.

“Yes, I’ll be going home tonight!” she told her, thankful for the relief she saw in her eyes. “I’m going to be fine. I just need to remember my inhaler, is all.” She grimaced. “Though, I have a feeling it may take some getting use to remembering to carry it around.”

“I’ll remind you,” Duke stated. “The other two have a memory of a goldfish.”

“I do not!” Mara barked. Duke sighed.

“Okay, you’re fine.” She turned to Chandler. “ _You_ , however-”

“My memory is _fine_!” Chandler snapped.

Veronica arched a brow.

“Says the person who literally _forgot_ to do lunchtime poll.”

Chandler stared at her. “And when was that?”

Veronica smirked at her smugly. “My point exactly.”

She was given a defensive glare in return, though the way her mouth twitched let Veronica know that there was little hurt behind her scowl.

“But I’ll… see you guys tomorrow?” she then said, offering up a smile. The three of them nodded.

“We will,” Chandler agreed, stepping towards her and slipping an arm around her in a loose hug. Feeling her warmth pressed up against her gave Veronica the urge to pull her closer and not let her go; God, she did not want to feel alone in this hospital painted with greys, whites and desaturated blues with flat cushions and discomforting smells. Not even for a few more hours.

And, well, she just didn’t want Heather to leave her.

“Don’t scare me like that again, asshole,” Heather then whispered into her ear, tingles shooting up her spine. It filled Veronica with a dangerous impulse. She turned her head, cupped her mouth as if she were about to whisper something in her ear, keeping it out of view of Heather and Heather.

“Will this make you forgive me?” she asked in a hushed voice, before planting a quick, soft kiss on her speckled cheek. She heard the slightest of squeaks escape her lips, followed by a bashful look.

“You’re on thin fucking ice,” she whispered back, clearly fighting back a smile. When her arm left her, though, Veronica only felt more empty.

“We’ll make sure no one bothers you,” Mara said, jumping forward and placing a hand on her thigh. Veronica gave an appreciative smile, placing her hand over hers once again.

“Thanks,” she said, swallowing when she felt nails beginning to dig into her skin. Not in a painful way, by any means. It simply made her miss another type of sensation when the hand left her.

The Heathers then stepped backwards, all ready to leave her behind. But in staring after them, Veronica simply didn’t want the three bright colours to disappear. She knew their perfumes wouldn’t linger on her clothes for as long as she wished.

“Bye,” is all Duke said, before they all turned around and started to make their way towards the exit of the ward. Veronica found her eyes glued to Duke, thinking about the dryness of her farewell, and…

“Heather.”

Three heads turned back to look at her.

“Um… Duke,” she clarified, nodding to her. “Can I just… talk to you for a second?” She gave both Mara and Chandler an apologetic look. “Alone?”

Duke shot her a curious look, but remained in place when Chandler and Mara proceeded to leave.

“What?” she asked, walking back over to the bed she sat on, stopping a fair distance away from her. Veronica furrowed a brow.

“You haven’t sat down this entire time,” she said. “You can sit here if you’d like.” She tapped the space next to her, and Duke gritted her teeth and scrunched up her nose in disgust.

“On a hospital bed?” she hurled. “Do you realise how many people have died there?”

As she walked to the headboard, where a hand sanitizer dispenser could be found, Veronica gave a huff.

“It could be none,” she said. “But my mistake. I forget you’re a germaphobe.”

Duke’s quick rubbing motions suddenly slowed. She didn’t turn around, though she spoke up.

“You’re implying that there’s something to remember.”

Veronica grew quiet, fingers curling into the white, rough bed sheets as those words sunk in, leaving a stinging sensation in her chest.

“ _Is_ there?”

Duke froze in place for a second, like an animal about to become roadkill.

“You’re lucky there was,” she finally murmured. “Or I wouldn’t have known what the fuck to do.”

Biting her tongue and feeling her muscles grow stiff, she slipped off of the bed and landed on the cold floor below, her legs still weak and her body yearning for rest. But she ignored its needs, in favour of her own.

“Heather,” she croaked. “Do you remember me?”

For a good while, she got no response. Heather remained still, seemingly staring at the floor.

“That’s a good question,” she finally replied, swinging around to meet her. Her ivy-coloured gaze had darkened, and her black hair was becoming loose from her scrunchie. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Veronica calmly held her gaze.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

A scoff escaped Duke’s lips.

“ _Why wouldn’t I?_ ” she mocked. “I never thought you did,” she spat bitterly. “I assumed you had forgotten me by now.”

Veronica frowned. “We were close friends, Heather,” she said. “I… tend to not forget those. Y’know, because I’ve had so little of them in my life.”

Duke scorned at her, the hostility in her gaze putting Veronica on edge.

“You sure know how to keep them,” she hissed.

“What are you talking about?”

“Are you thick?” she snarled. “Veronica, if you were really so keen on keeping your friends, then perhaps you wouldn’t have just…” She bit the inside of her cheek and averted her gaze. “I don’t know. You never even said ‘hi’.”

Veronica let her hip rest against the side of the bed.

“You found new people,” she said. “We just figured that you’d moved on.” She shrugged. “For… I don’t know, more popular people?” She eyed her accusingly. “And that kinda hurt, Heather.”

“I’m _sorry_?”

“It hurt!” she repeated. “You honestly think Betty, Martha and I didn’t miss you? Martha especially.” She glowered. “You said you would come right back to us, Heather. Why didn’t you?”

“You want my honest answer, Sawyer?” Heather snapped. “No! I didn’t think you missed me! None of you, at _any_ point approached me, or even acknowledged my fucking existence!”

“You _literally_ made two friends on the first day of middle school!” Veronica argued, trying to control the vexation she felt beginning to form. “I’m sorry we figured you’d gained a load of social skills during your time away.” She let out a grunt. “Seriously, who manages that?”

“You thought I _what_ ?” Heather echoed with a disbelieving laugh. “That’s _rich_ . As if I made any new friends when I moved away.” She was smiling, but the pain in her eyes was evident. “I would’ve given anything to stay with you guys.” Her voice grew a little weak. “So you have _no_ idea how overjoyed I was when I saw you again. Still in a group.”

“Then why did you _never talk to us_ ?” she barked. “Why were you perfectly happy with your two new best friends?” The slightest ache clawed its way up her throat as her voice raised. “Why did you never even _look_ at us?”

“If you wanted me back so much, why’d you never _approach_ me?”

“Like I _said_ you had just moved on in favour of becoming a popular, higher-up _bitch_ -” she was cut off when her airways cramped up, her voice replaced with a cough. She gripped her throat in panic, dreading the worst, before she felt herself being gently shoved backwards onto the bed, hands holding her spine up straight. The coughing thankfully stopped, and she looked up to see Heather, though still holding a derisive glare, kept her upright.

“I didn’t,” she said. “Veronica, it was Heather who approached me. She wanted me to tag along with her, and we ended up becoming friends.” She narrowed her gaze. “You know why she wanted that?”

Veronica tried to think up an answer, but nothing came to mind. And when she didn’t respond, Heather got the hint.

“She wasn’t popular, Veronica,” she said, removing her hold from her shoulders. “None of us where. We were three misfits, just like all of you.” Her eyes drifted elsewhere. “She just wanted to make a friend, and she did that. Popularity was never anyone’s aim, it was something we picked up over time.” She flashed a contemptuous glare to her. “I’m sorry that you all viewed the rest of the school as higher than you, even if some of them weren’t.”

Hearing that made Veronica’s blood boil, but she refrained from firing back as to prevent her lungs from throwing a hissy fit yet again.

“But the truth is, I didn’t abandon you. Not for anything.” Her voice grew quieter. “But you’re right on one thing. I _did_ move on. None of you ever acknowledged me, and I wasn’t going to hold onto a group of friends that didn’t remember me. No _wonder_ I moved on.”

Veronica couldn’t bring herself to look at her in the eye for much longer, not when all she could picture was a much younger Heather, thrown into a new environment, all alone. At no point had Veronica considered herself lucky to have two other people she could stick by, rather than facing the wrath of middle school all by herself. She’d just figured the placement she’d been given when reaching middle school was unfair in itself.

Which - don’t get her wrong - it _was_ , but…

She thickly swallowed as her eyes trailed down to Heather’s hand, which seemed to be latched onto something covered by her green sleeve. In getting a closer look, she could see the white material glisten whenever her thumb moved out of the way, making it easy for her to recognise the bracelet she had given to her.

“Did you want to?” she murmured, still staring at it.

Heather’s fingers curled firmly around her wrist.

“No.” She shrugged. “But what does it matter? Your friends clearly hate me anyway; there’s no getting any of it back.”

Veronica sighed, easily catching on that the conclusion was likely gathered from today’s interactions. There seemed to be no end of the bitching from Betty about Heather when she visited her before, and all of that was from an hour spent together _alone_.

_“She’s become so unbearable,” she hissed. “How do you put up with her almost every day?”_

_“She’s really not that bad.”_

_Betty frowned._

_“Was the treatment we got her way of saying she wants nothing to do with us?” she muttered, sounding pained. “She’s really just ditched us for a life of luxury, huh?”_

_“I…” Veronica trailed off._

“I’m sorry.”

Heather paused, looking up at her with rounded eyes.

“Huh?”

Veronica struggled to hold her gaze, wracked with newfound guilt.

“You’re… you’re right,” she confessed, the words leaving a peculiar taste in her mouth. “We shouldn’t have assumed you’d just moved on,” she looked down at her lap. “And we should’ve put more effort into talking to you, especially when talking to a group of people in middle school is much more intimidating that a group of people talking to one.”

She looked back up at Heather, who was just blinking at her in surprise.

“I… oh,” she eventually grunted. Her eyes flickered back and forth in a conflicted manner, her brow furrowing.

“I’m sorry too?”

Veronica tilted her head. “What for?”

“I mean…” She she clasped her hands together. “Ever since you joined us, I’ve just been… very bitchy towards you.” A regretful grimace. “Because honestly, I didn’t want my old ex-close friend suddenly gaining some sort of constant presence in my life.”

“Well, I accept the apology, on the terms that you really haven’t been that bitchy lately,” Veronica said, smiling. Heather gazed up at her with curiosity. “I mean, sure, the pure act of _offering_ me a double date with Kurt and Ram is a big red flag in my book, but… I’m glad you were able to make up for it.”

They both chuckled at the memory.

“And… I’m glad you’ve been looking out for me, I guess,” Heather said, scratching the back of her head, pulling more black strands out of the scrunchie in doing so. “Because of my _issues_ and all.”

Veronica gave her an afflicted gaze.

“Of course I have been!” she exclaimed. “I wasn’t about to let it kill you.”

“Right back at you,” Heather remarked. “But also, it _technically_ wasn’t you who saved me. Heather beats you to me, yet again.” She shook her head with disappointment, followed by an innocent laugh that seemed so much sweeter than her usual demeanor - one that Veronica could _finally_ admit that she missed dearly.

“Wow, I’m so bad at this,” she lamented in a melodramatic tone.

“To be honest,” Heather interjected. “It says a lot about us when it takes near death experiences to realise how much we really fuck up.” She pursed her lips. “As in, all four of us.”

Veronica couldn’t help but nod in agreement. “Yeah…”

A brief silence.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Heather then said in a much softer tone. “I don’t know if I’ve said that already, but it’s just…” She dug her nails into her scalp, pulling on her hair until her scrunchie began to slide out. Veronica caught it before it hit the floor, and she continued to speak once her locks were out of her visual field.

“I just keep thinking about what could have happened,” she admitted. “They’re just dumb… what-if thoughts. But they’re unpleasant.”

Her voice grew weaker, and Veronica placed a hand on her shoulder, caressing her a little.

“Whatever,” she muttered, shaking her head. “What I’m trying to say is…” Her voice trailed off, and no more words came. Instead, she gazed up at her longingly, before tugging her into a firm embrace. Veronica felt as if she was stepping into… not unfamiliar territory, just territory she had avoided for years out of fear of the unknown. That is, excluding the odd time something in there offered a warm welcome, allowing her a place to stay overnight.

“If you need a reminder to bring your inhaler,” Heather grumbled next to her ear. “Just think of the fact that I’m hugging you out of my own free will.”

“This isn’t the first time, Heather.”

“ _Shut up_ ,” Heather muttered. Veronica laughed warmly.

“I’m glad you’re still fond of hugs, if that makes you feel better.”

She heard Heather sigh.

“Yeah. I’ve missed it.” Her chin shifted so that it was tucked in closer to the crook of her neck. As she spoke again, warm breath brushed over the side of her neck.

“And I’ve missed you,” she whispered. “ _Loo-loo_.”

_SLAP._

“ _Ow!_ ” she yelped, rubbing her arm. “Heather, I am a _hospital patient!_ ”

“You’re one of my best friends, actually.”

* * *

_Dear diary,_

_As terrifying as facing the possibility of passing out and dying was…_

_At least it reminded me to keep hold of things I could have lost whilst I still can._

**Author's Note:**

> we're on a role with these duke ships my guys uwu
> 
> https://heathersgameoftag.tumblr.com/


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